Your Past Meets My Present
by Hermioneoftherealworld
Summary: Bellas grandma Maria knew Edward when he was human.What will come of Bella meeting Edward in Forks when Maria still lives?Especialy since he seemed to hate her when he was human?How will Bellas interest with the boy who disapeared long ago effect the two
1. Chapter 1

**BPOV**

My fingers gently caressed each shiny slip of paper.

The yellowed edges were marred with creases and small hacks. The old sepia photographs were cloaked in years of dust that danced around my eyes when I blew the top layer off. The remaining particles still coating the glossy pieces were wiped off by the blue flannel shirt I wore. I handled the forty to sixty year old images with the utmost of care and affection.

I loved visiting my grandmother's home.

The quiet little cottage was located only forty-five minutes from my hometown of Forks, Washington. Its warm walls and atmosphere could only hint at the benevolent little old widow that resided within. A cobble stone path leads from the cleared out parking space to the little, wooden, front door. A barricade of trees surrounded the secluded area, cloaking it in a mysterious, magical aura. In the spring and summer months, hundreds of wild and domestic flowers sprouted and bloomed. Vines of violets and yellows and blues and greens wound and crawled their way up the outer, wooden walls while rich emerald grasses and flora sprinkled itself over the woodsy clearing. In the autumn and fall, Grandma and I would sow, plant, grow, and harvest various vegetables and fruits. The very best of our labor would be either baked into one of her mouthwatering, succulent fruit pies or tossed into some other magnificent dish for us to feast on. During the blisteringly cold winter, smoke would rise from the short stone chimney. Hot chocolate would always be set out on the dainty kitchen table just inside the door, right next to freshly baked cookies.

I had always been fascinated by the yellowed photographs of my grandmother's past. The antiquity of it all just drew me in like Pooh Bear to honey. Whenever we would come across a particularly interesting depiction, my grandma would launch into her rendition of the tale regarding the event. I loved hearing her speak so fondly of a happier time and place. Her eyes would glaze over as if she really returned to that moment in history and a faint ghost of a grin would curl her lips up. It was beautiful to behold. But really, there was one story in particular that fascinated me the most.

My eyes returned to the picture I currently held. Sure enough, my grandmother's eyes followed mine and landed on the image before us. A sad but gentle smile shimmered over her face as her hazel eyes softened to butter. It was another picture of _him._

Maria Isabelle Swan—my dad, Charlie's, mom who kept her maiden name after her husband died on the warfront—was a mere twelve years old when she claims to have met the perfect man. No, he was not who she ended up marrying. No, no. _He_ was _perfect_. E. A. Mason Jr. was 'everything any woman could only dream of'. A sharp, defined jaw bone with full, pouty lips and large, almond shaped jewels of jade glistened on his face. He stood proud and proper, just over six foot and would always dress impeccably no matter the occasion. He had been charming and oh so knowledgeable for such a young man. Of course, the last thing Grandma Maria mentioned about him was that he absolutely _loathed _her.

"Such a shame he was such a sod," she had once revealed to me when I located yet another old photo. "I never did understand his hatred towards me. The first time I ever met the boy when I was a wee twelve years, he glared at me as if I had shot his first puppy! He would tease and taunt me mercilessly! Of course, I gave as good as I got! No respectable Swan would _ever _let anyone, much less a self-righteous, stubborn ignorant fool of a man! Oh the things we did… I will have to tell you sometime. There are far too many tales to tell. Next time dear, next time." She had then waved me away before going to take an afternoon nap.

I had to admit, he was indeed breathtaking. I simply could not picture such a… well… such a _gorgeous_ boy being as cruel as Grandma Maria describes. I was also insanely curious as to _why_ he was so mean to her. There just had to be more to the story than what my grandma let on.

However, after a single picture taken in 1918, E. Mason just disappears. I looked and looked but could never find any sign of him after early on in that year. Grandma says that was just because of the epidemic.

Grandma Maria had been born in and grew up in Chicago. She had just turned 17 when the Spanish Influenza swept the state. She told me that the illness could have claimed the bane of her existence, but highly doubted it. In fact, despite the reports of the Mason family being wiped out, she still thinks E. Mason is walking the earth.

I think her old age is getting to her.

You see, Maria Isabelle Swan was in her early to mid forties when she had my dad. She had only been married five years. Dad and Mom had me when he was 36. I am now 17, almost 18. I guess you could say my family waits a long while to have kids. Grandma Maria is now 99 years old and very gnarled, wrinkled, and fragile. She turns a nice round century in two months and my concern for her health and wellbeing increases exponentially with each passing week.

Like I said, old age.

As dusk crept over the dense mass of timber, greenery, and fauna I neatly and carefully organized the various stacks of glossy, but faded photographs. Stacking them up before placing each gently into the old shoeboxes, I shoved the containers under Maria's bed once more.

I kissed my grandmother on her forehead, telling her I was leaving. I promised to try to be back this weekend. She just smiled her crinkled little smile and softly told me everything would be fine. She also said to tell Mason he's an ass.

See? She's delusional.

But I just let out a quiet chuckle and my grandmother's eccentric mumblings, told her I would, and left.

When I got to my old, beat up truck, a sigh fell from my lips.

Tomorrow was my first day of attending Forks High School. I've been here for a month, clarifying things with my old school in Phoenix and moving what little belongings I had into my dad's home. I had cleanly completed the few classes I had been in early so I would have that one month for myself, but this had been my last day. It was February and the semester had already started.

_Oh joy._

**Heyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's been a while and I know you guys were probably hoping for an update on one of my other stories but I just haven't been feeling twilight like I was before. Updates will be few and far between. I am going to try and make them longer though.**

**I don't know if you noticed but I changed my pen name from HermioneCullen-vampirewizard to Hermioneoftherealworld. Like I said, I'm just not feeling twilight anymore.**

**Well, anyway, here's a story that's been floating around the catacombs of my brain for a while now. Hope you like!**

**Review please!!!! I love reading them and it's so fun to hear from you all! 10 reviews and I'll update as soon as I have time to write more!**

**Hermioneoftherealworld**


	2. Chapter 2

**APOV**

"Hey EDDDDD-WAAAAARRRRRRRDDD!" I called, louder than truly necessary. I threw open the ever shut door to the only third-floor room to find... it was empty.

_Oh pooh._

I hadn't seen that dear, emo-ish brother of mine leave. Shrugging to myself, I reasoned he probably left to have some quiet time to himself. Hee hee... it's not like we really provide much in the way of "quiet" around here. My eye caught the door to his closet which was slightly ajar.

_Well since he was gone..._

I launched myself head first into his closet.

_Oh no, no, no... That is _**so**_ last season... Come on Edward, surely I have taught you better than this... _I began muttering to myself as I tore an assortment of shirts, pants, shoes, and jackets from their respective hangers and shelves. I was already planning the new garments that would very quickly take each ones' place. I had just removed an entire section of my dear brother's lounge wear when a modestly sized box fell with a loud '_thud'_ to the carpeted floor, the lid slipping off.

_Oh! What is this?_

Now I had been through Edward's room hundreds of times, (and even more so when he was out of the house, but don't tell him that!). I had looked through a good number of his journals that were stacked neatly in order by date on his numerous bookshelves. I'll have you know I had _never_ seen this box before.

I immediately fell to the floor in front of it and shook the contents out onto the ground before me.

_Well what would you have done?_

A single, leather bound, faded book fell out. A cloud of dust, built up over perhaps fifty years frothed in the air while a thin layer still coated the beautiful volume. I allowed my hands the freedom to carefully dance over the dusty exterior, wiping away the remaining glaze of particles. Atop the cover was embossed a simple title: _'1917-1918'_. Curious to know what part of Edward's past he could have kept from me, I eagerly flipped the cover over.

I was greeted with a rather odd sight.

"ALICE!" My head shot up and I met the golden gaze of a rather furious Edward. "How many times do I have to tell you not to enter my room without permission?" His voice grew somber and exasperated.

I paused for a minute, pondering. "About two thousand, four hundred and thirty two times." I shrugged arrogantly. Heck, it's not like he's going to do anything. He never does. Not that he could anyway.

"You would think it would only take someone with a pin point perfect memory once or _maybe_ twice to understand that unwarranted invasions of privacy are not welcome when it comes to my personal belongings and space." He pinched the bridge of his nose, as he always did when frustration set in. I decided to change the subject.

"Who's this?" I said, holding up the photo album I had divulged upon emptying his closet of unsightly and out-of-style clothing and accessories. The picture on the front page was of a young girl, I would have guessed to be about Edward's own age, obviously before he was changed. The speckled depiction had yellowed over the ninety or so years it had been tucked away, out of sight. However, the black and white ink still accentuated the portrait it had captured so long ago. The female had seemingly pale skin, contrasting drastically with her dark hair. The shiny waves cascaded down past the edge of the photograph, but framed her heart-shaped face beautifully. Dark, doe-like eyes looked innocently up from the paper, the cupid's bow lips twitched up in a shy smile. She was gorgeous, though she seemed remarkably fragile, even in the picture.

"She's no one." Edward swiped the book from my hands and I swear, judging by the look on his face, he would be blushing if he could.

_Oh-ho dear brother, your facial expression begs to differ._ His expression quickly morphed into one of anger and aggravation as he began to glare as he heard this thought.

"Oh really now? Then would you care to explain how this finely bound album came to be buried in the back of your closet and how come I have never seen it before?"

"Alice," he growled, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. It was a move I was often subjected to. "This," he started with a sigh, holding up the volume, "is the last yearbook I own of my human life. The reason you haven't seen it is due to the fact that I wished to keep this one piece of my past private."

"You still never answered my very first question, Edward. Who _is_ she? She's quite pretty," I pointed out. He sighed once more and came to sit Indian style next to me. Flipping open the thick leather cover, his long, pale fingers ever-so-lightly danced over the papery image. His eyes were downcast, staring at the picture with a glassy gaze.

"Her name was Maria Isabelle Swan. She was in my class throughout the entirety of my education. I don't think she liked me very much though... I wasn't exactly the greatest of gentlemen where she was concerned. She aggravated me to no end. Even back then, before Carlisle changed me and I was cursed with this mind reading gift, I was exceptionally good at reading people. She was always tricky. I could almost never guess her reactions quite well and she was always so... What's the word I'm looking for? Ah, yes! She was always so _hasty _and would jump headfirst into the strangest things. It was beyond frustrating. I'm sure I came off like a... well... a right ass to her with my reactions," he said with a slight bashful tone.

"Haha!" I laughed, "I have such a hard time picturing you acting like that that the mental image I get is one of Emmett and Esme!" I showed him how the scene played out in my mind and soon enough we were both on the ground in laughing fits.

Twelve minutes later I was carrying the clothing that I deemed unworthy to wear down to Esme's clothing "donation" closet. Once a month she would clean it out and drive all of our old garments to the children's shelter or some charity to donate. I had just finished hanging a rather old dress shirt of Carlisle's when my vision clouded over and I could no longer see the closet around me.

_I could see it, clear as day… A young girl, around our own age, stood alone. Well, not alone. Edward stood across from her. Both were clearly angry and her hands fluctuated from resting on her hips to waving wildly in the air as she furiously tried to communicate a point to brother dearest. He was much the same and for quite some time the pair argued heatedly back and forth. His face suddenly lost all previous anger and became contemplative. Then Edward did something I would have never expected._

_His arm shot out, bringing the girl flush with his chest and kissed her. And he kissed her with the passion I could only compare to that share by mated vampires._

When I regained sight of the racks of clothes in front of me, I was motionless. I could hardly believe what I had just seen. It was after mere moments of the shock-induced freezing of my being that I was struck with a revelation of startling certainty. The brown haired girl in the vision was identical to the Maria Isabelle Swan from Edward's past.

* * *

**Hey people! Yeah some of you still may be unaware I changed my user name but I did. I'm no longer feeling Twilight. In fact I think it is downright bad. But I am going to try to finish my stories. I may however have to end a few. I am going to put some up for adoption so if anyone would like to take one over, just PM me and we'll chat it out. I know I only have like one or two chapters up on some, scratch that, most, but I just have a hard time working with them now. **

**On further accounts, I am in dire need of help in my story,"I Believe You". I NEED inspiration badly so please, please, please give me some ideas! I take anonymous reviews too so anyone can pitch me their ideas! I'm begging you! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!**

**From the center of my pathetic and lazy being,**

**Courtney**

**P.S.**

**I am so excited however because the 13****th**** is my birthday and I get to go to THE WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER ON MY BIRTHDAY WEEK! I GET IN A FULL WEEK EARLY! I'M HAVING MINI SEIZURES OVER THIS! Heehee!**


	3. IMPORTANT!

**!...****!****PLEASE READ!...!**

**Okay you all hate me by now, but I would like to let you know that **_**ALL**_** of my Twilight stories are up for adoption. I really can't deal with them and I really just don't feel the story at all. If you want to take over for me, just PM me and we'll talk it out. I'm so sorry but honestly, I don't find Robert cutest in the slightest, Kristen is ugly, I still find Taylor adorable but I did before he buffed up too, and besides all that, my AP classes are murder. The story holds no appeal for me whatsoever.**

**Terribly sorry,**

**HermioneOfTheRealWorld**


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